"Shut up," Seamus said too late, because Dean was worried.

"But-"

"I know." Seamus ran a hand over his soot smeared cheeks, and into his hair.

It was longer than it had been, the last time Seamus's wand had done this, and singed at the tips. 

"You're too old to be..." Dean mused, and then stopped, because yes, hadn't it been years?

"I've been. Things are going on," Seamus said, his eyes sloping oddly downward, not into Dean's eyes, but somewhere along his neck.

He shouldered past, into the dormitories, and their skin pressed hot where his sleeve rode up.